


didn’t get tonight (don’t have tomorrow)

by kay_emm_gee



Series: in the span of a heartbeat (flash fics) [26]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9511568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: ANONYMOUS SAID: PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE STILL TAKING PROMPTS! ok so there's this list called how you said I love you and I think "muffled, from the other side of the door" would be AMAZING for bellarke. Maybe based off the song move together by james bay? Bellarke angst is honestly my weakness and that song has been stuck in my head for ages! Love your work by the way, you're one of my favorite writers! :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6143293).

Lunch was how they were supposed to start healing what those three months had broken between them. A small, defined amount of time that would force casualness and involve being in a public place. It was supposed to be comfortable, easy, but between her schedule and his, they could never find a good time.

So lunches turned to dinners but when neither of them could pick a restaurant, that turned into takeout at Bellamy’s place. They had a good rotation going by now: pizza, Indian, Thai, sandwiches, and, on occasion, ice cream. They had a good schedule too. Clarke would show up five minutes late (which honestly for her was pretty good), Bellamy would order their meal after fifteen minutes of catch-up conversation, eating would take an hour or so, and just before nine, Clarke would head home.

They were _not_ dates, no matter how much Nate muttered _that is exactly what the hell they are_. Bellamy wasn’t ready to think about dating Clarke again. Clarke certainly hadn’t indicated anything of the sort either.

(He didn’t tell anyone the one and only time he had drunk a few beers with dinner he couldn’t stop looking at her lips as she said goodbye, which was why he never went for a drink again while she was over.)

But then he’d seen her, laughing with a pretty girl at a coffee shop, while on an errand for work one Saturday. His heart had lurched. The weekly dinners he had with Clarke weren’t dates, but by the looks of it, Clarke was indeed _dating._

(If he sat next to her on the couch that week at their dinner instead of in the chair across the way, he would say he just had a better view of the TV from there).

Besides that, he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to coax her back to him with touches or looks or words. It wouldn’t be fair, to ask something of her that he might not be ready for.

But then one night before _their_ night, Clarke showed up at his door with determination in her eyes and worry hidden in the corners of her mouth. Her mouth–which she parted before huffing, popping up on her toes, and kissing him quickly, firmly on his own.

“I know I’m the one who left,” she blurted breathlessly. “And I know that I might ruin something here tonight, but I don’t want to lose a chance with you, not again, not when I could make it right.”

Thoughts of caution and memories of the mess she had left behind spun him around, but the way she looked up at him (the way she _always_ looked at him, like he was her center) made the his worries settle, his doubt calm, and suddenly everything started to fall back into place.

Cupping her jaw with both hands, Bellamy kissed her deep and long and messy, because ninety days (and then more) without her had been hell. He wasn’t about to go without her for that long, or ever, again.


End file.
